


Hands and Feet

by RedTeamShark



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Author Chose Not To Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2019-09-07 07:37:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: Michael opened the front door with an unusual amount of trepidation for a Tuesday. Then again, it wasn’t every Tuesday that he left his husband and their four-year-old home to paint the baby’s bedroom.





	Hands and Feet

**Author's Note:**

> Proper warnings, tags, etc, may come in the future. For the time being I'm frantically transferring my content to a stable platform amidst growing concerns about tumblr's inevitable implosion.
> 
> Apologies for flooding the fandom page.

In hindsight, he really regretted agreeing to let his husband and daughter paint her room without supervision.

Sure, they’d both been enthusiastic about the project, promising with angelic smiles not to make a mess (it just wasn’t fair that their daughter had inherited Gavin’s heart-melting grin, he bitched to himself) or ruin the room. But this was Gavin and Gabby, quite possibly the two people on the planet most likely to burn a house down while trying to paint a bedroom in bright, primary colors.

He pulled into the driveway with a small sigh of relief that the house was still standing, turning off the car and getting out. The first thing he saw when he opened the door was the paintbrushes he’d left on the counter that morning, still wrapped in cellophane. Before he could even consider that maybe they hadn’t gotten around to painting the bedroom, or had wanted to wait for him to join in, he was forced to acknowledge two very important things:

The paint buckets weren’t with the brushes.

There were paint splotches on the hallway’s cream colored carpet, leading into the bathroom.

Light shone from the room, the sound of splashing water and squeaking giggles. Michael rubbed his temples, heading for the bathroom and leaning on the doorframe, a fond smile forcing its way to his lips at the sight before him. Gavin knelt next to the tub in a ratty t-shirt and shorts, his bare legs folded under him and splashes of blue and green paint on the bottoms of his feet. Gabby sat in the water, flailing and laughing as her daddy swam one of her toy fish towards her through the (startlingly murky—he hoped that was paint and not some sort of plumbing issue) water. She looked up and saw him first, exclaiming a greeting and waving her arms excitedly.

“Daddy! We painted my room today!” She beamed and Michael couldn’t help but smile back.

“Did you paint your daddy, too?” He questioned, snickering as Gavin turned towards him. The sandy-haired man had paint on his face, including a particularly large splotch of red on the tip of his nose.

“A little…” He admitted, smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. “You should go look at it.”

“I’m nervous.” The curly-haired man folded his arms, eyeing his husband up and down slowly. “On a scale from one to sleeping on the couch, how mad at you am I going to be?”

“…Three?” Gavin offered, spreading his hands. “It looks nice, Michael, I promise. Gabby wanted to do it.”

“Go look, daddy!” Gabby added from the tub, splashing the murky water excitedly. Michael sighed but smiled, heading down the short hallway to his daughter’s room.

At first it looked to be a complete disaster, splashes of all four paint colors all over the walls. He could feel his face reddening with anger, his fists clenching and an outburst rising, a storm ready to unleash it’s fury.  _This_  was a three?  _This_?!

He took two quick, angry steps into the room, shoes crunching on the plastic that Gavin had laid down—thank god for small favors—and stared at the wet paint on the walls. His fists unclenched. His anger melted away. The smallest of smiles graced his lips, a chuckle coming from his throat rather than a yell.

For the disaster that it appeared to be from the door, up close it became remarkably clear what his G-team (as they called themselves and demanded he call them) had done. The walls were covered in Gabby’s handprints and footprints, all the way up to the ceiling. He traced his fingers carefully around them, smiling a little. Blue for the left hand, red for the right hand, green for the left foot and yellow for the right foot. Some of the prints overlapped and there were large white spaces intersperced, but… it didn’t exactly look terrible, he had to admit.

His eyes tracked over the room, spotting something out of the ordinary.

Next to the closet were a set of larger handprints and footprints and Michael recalled the paint on the bottom of Gavin’s feet, shaking his head in wonder. Lined up along the wall were two sets of hand and footprints with a blank spot at the bottom.

“Gabby” read the carefully lettered paint at the very top, followed by his daughter’s handprints and footprints.

“Gavin” was the next name and, naturally, the next set of prints—red left hand, yellow right hand, blue left foot, green right foot. Michael was briefly impressed that his husband had gotten his feet that high up.

“Michael” was written below that, with a space for his own hand and footprints. He shook his head, pulling his shoes and socks off without a second thought, rolling his jeans up to his knees. Carefully he set his left hand in the green paint and his right hand in the yellow paint. He placed the prints on the wall before grabbing the blue and red buckets over, coating his left foot in red paint and his right foot in blue paint. Balancing carefully, Michael planted his footprints on the wall below his handprints, looking around for a rag to wipe his feet off with.

There wasn’t one and he sighed again, getting up and tracking paint across the plastic on the floor, making his way back down the hall to the bathroom.

Gavin and Gabby had vacated the room, leaving splashes of water and a brown stained tub in their wake. Shaking his head (not without a touch of affection), Michael quickly rinsed his hands and feet off, following the sound of excited chatter into the kitchen.

The two were preparing dinner, though they both stopped and looked to him when he came into the room, nervous smiles on their faces.

“So, do you like it, Daddy?” Gabby questioned, stepping over and holding her arms up. Michael picked her up easily, kissing her forehead and nodding.

“You both did a good job.” He stepped over to Gavin, kissing his cheek quickly. “Even if Daddy was a dumb and tracked paint all over the carpet because he didn’t bring a rag into the bedroom.”

“Knew I forgot something.” Gavin mumbled, blushing slightly and giving his shoulder a shove. “I’ll clean it up later.”

“Bullshit. I’ll end up cleaning it because you’ll get lazy about it.” He set Gabby down, smiling a little. “Make sure Daddy doesn’t burn the house down, okay, hun? I’m gonna clean up the bathroom and the hall.”

She saluted, before turning and planting her hands on her hips. “Daddy! You can’t put a lid on a pot of boiling stuff! It’s gonna spill!” When given the task of keeping Gavin in line, Gabby took her job seriously.

Michael shared a last look with his husband before leaving the kitchen, the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth conveying all that needed to be said. 


End file.
